


It's you I hate, because you have the nerve to make me feel

by lucylupin



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Repressed Feelings, cw: homophobic language, toothpick bitchslap, what can i do, yes i know blonde is a psychopath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22253428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylupin/pseuds/lucylupin
Summary: If there’s one thing Vic would never tell anyone, it’s that he had nightmares.From the prompt “You had a nightmare, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.”
Relationships: Mr. Blonde/"Nice Guy" Eddie Cabot
Comments: 3
Kudos: 89





	It's you I hate, because you have the nerve to make me feel

**Author's Note:**

> Vic is a psychopath. I don’t know why I suddenly felt the need to do an olympic dive into his feelings.

If there’s one thing Vic would never tell anyone, it’s that he had nightmares. It was a secret so shameful, so removed from the image of himself he wanted to project into the world, that he kept it buried, hidden deep within the sunken pit of his soul, enclosed by layers of hate and violence. Those were things he liked about himself: the brutality, the ruthlessness, the sadism; these things he welcomed and embraced, they made him accept himself as he was. The fear, however, had no place.

He would never talk about the nightmares, wouldn’t even think about them, lest the truth leaked out of its lair, seeped into the outside and stained him. He wouldn’t let it reveal himself and spoil his face, his stance, letting everyone know he was not immune or indifferent to the cruelty of the world.

The first time he had one of those nightmares, he was 13. It was the first time he had ran away from home too, after a specially rough beating from his dad. He wandered the streets late into the night until he passed out on a bench in the bus station, and had bolted awake in sudden panic, drenched in sweat, confused and scared. He remembered nothing from the dream but darkness, cold, and fear. And a sensation of desolation and loneliness, like he’d been abandoned in this world and nothing or no one would ever save him from this solitude.The substance of the dreams would change with the years, but the feeling would always be the same.

The whipping from running away was almost worse than the one that had caused it.

Since then, he’d had nightmares every time he slept in an unfamiliar place: when he moved out of his house, the first time he’d stayed the night in Eddie’s guest bedroom, when he went to jail, of course, scared shitless of making any noise and letting someone find out what was going on. He had them his first nights out of jail too, in the halfway house, but at least there he got his own room. Then Eddie and Joe had hooked him up with that fake job and not a week later he was given leave from the house; that son of a bitch Scagnetti had shaken his hand and wished him well too, the bastard, as if he was not expecting him to get back into jail soon enough.

So this was his first night of freedom (this time for real). On top of everything, the Cabots had given him the keys to an apartment, rent-free ( _don’t worry kid, you’ll pay for it when you can, you’re working for us, did time for us, it’s the least we can do_ ), but had invited him to stay at their house anyway. He had accepted.

Eddie showed him to the guest room, the same one where he’d stayed countless nights years ago (and where he hadn’t stayed, when he chosen Eddie’s bed instead), and Vic wondered if the old familiarity of the place would save him from the stupid night terrors. Shit if he knew.

“But you can stay at my room if you want, you know.” Eddie lifted his eyebrows with a smug grin full of intention. Vic shrugged casually.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” Better be safe than sorry.

Eddie did a poor job of hiding his disappointment as he left the room. “Oh, well, whatever, I’ll be there if you need anything.“

"Sure.” Eddie left the door open and Vic closed it behind him.

It pained him a little, hurting Eddie, but there was nothing he could do. He wouldn’t risk waking up in a cold sweat next to him, or speaking in his sleep or something like that. Besides, he would be back to his normal self in a few days.

So he slept alone, had a nightmare, and woke up in the middle of the night panting and trembling, his heart beating so hard in his chest it hurt. He laid alone in bed afterward, unable to sleep, and for a fleeting moment considered going into Eddie’s room and curling up beside him. He quickly pushed that desire deep inside, buried it along the fear and all the ugly things, away where it could not disturb him.

The next day he went out for a long run, fucked Eddie until he begged for some rest, and then exercised in their home gym. He was determined to make his body so tired that it had no other choice but to let him sleep the whole night through. But he made a mistake;

he invited Eddie into his room late at night, hoping a quick fuck was just what he needed to fall fast asleep rapidly, but then dozed off before he could remember to tell Eddie to go back to his room.

He woke up a few hours later to a soft voice in his ear and gentle hands shaking his arms.

“Hey Vic, wake up.”

At first he blinked and looked around confused, but then woke suddenly and jerked from the touch, squinting at his friend.

“Hey hey, it’s me Toothpick, it’s Eddie.” Eddie was kneeling on the bed beside him and holding his hands up, palms open as in surrender. “You were having a nightmare.”

“What? No. I don’t have nightmares.” Vic sat up on the bed and tried to appear composed as Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah, you do. You were mumbling something.”

Vic brought a hand up to his face to rub his eyes, in part to wake himself up and in part to hide his expression; with his other hand he gathered the sheets up to his waist. He usually was never shy around Eddie.

“I said I wasn’t.”

Eddie was laughing cheekily now and approached him. Vic felt heat pooling in his chest and a rush of anger.

“C'mon Vicky,” Eddie said. He was trying to embrace him. “I’ll tuck you in if that’s what you want. I’ll give ya a kiss goodnight so you don’t have more nightmares."

"I said I don’t have nightmares, you faggot!” Vic pushed him away, and Eddie had to plant a feet on the floor to avoid tumbling backwards off the bed; his face turned sour.

“Well fuck you, Vic. I was only joking, Jesus.” Eddie turned away and started to gather his clothes scattered around the bed.

“Get outta here.” Vic turned away from him and laid in bed again, fixing his eyes on the wall.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He heard the voice of Eddie fade as he walked out of the room, and then the loud slam of the door. He tossed and turned in bed for the rest of the night.

The next morning Vic woke up early so he could avoid Eddie (who had an habit of oversleeping) and get out of the house unseen, but he had forgotten Joe was an early riser too.

He was eating his breakfast as fast as he could when Joe cleared his throat and said, without lifting his eyes from the paper he had in front of him,“I heard you guys fighting last night.”

Vic froze, the toast in his hand hanging mid-air between the plate and his mouth. “I…”

“Whatever it was about, I don’t give a shit. But I don’t want doors banging in my house in the middle of the night.” Joe looked up now, straight into Vic’s eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Joe. It was my fault.” Vic held Joe in very high regard; all he had right now, he had thanks to him. He felt ashamed that the man had to scold him.

“As I said, I don’t care whose fault it was. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He went back to looking at the paper.

“Of course Joe. Sorry.” Vic shoved what was left of the toast into his mouth, grabbed his plate and mug and left them on the sink, then went straight out of the house.

He spent the entire day sulking about in the streets and in bars, trying to entertain himself and straying away from sobriety as the hours passed. He even picked up a couple of fights, punched a couple of assholes in the face, and got a few punches in return. His face would hurt the next day. When night came around he didn’t know what to do. Going to his apartment meant sleeping like shit, maybe not sleeping at all, but going back to the Cabots’ probably meant facing Eddie, which he wasn’t in the mood for. In the end he decided to go back to Eddie’s, but hung out until late to avoid running into him.

All the lights of the house were out when Vic got inside, which made him sigh with relief. He kicked off his shoes in the hall and carried them upstairs, trying to be as stealthy as possible as his head throbbed, and crossed the hallway to his room. He stood in front of the door, put his hand on the knob and pushed in, then stopped and turned back to look at Eddie’s closed door.

He’d been a dick to Eddie the night before. Eddie had gone too far teasing him, true, but he’d been a dick. Vic knew he should apologize, but he didn’t really want to. Looking at the closed door just made the anger surge in him again. Just as he was turning to get in his own room Eddie’s door opened and he walked out.

They both froze in place, transfixed by each other’s gaze, blue piercing blue. Eddie’s face composed a scowl, but he said nothing. Vic squinted at him, focusing his glare and trying no to sway. He’d drunk way too much and he was clutching the knob so hard his fingers hurt. The stillness was broken by Eddie, who sighed slowly and then turned around, going back into his room and leaving the door behind him open, like an invitation.

Vic stood there a moment longer, staring at the darkness beyond the doorway, until very slowly he turned too, and went inside his own room, shutting the door at once.

He stirred out of sleep a few hours later, clutching the sheets and feeling like his brain was swimming in his skull. He had to bring a hand to his head and lay back, try to get the headache and the palpitations away by breathing deeply for a few minutes. It wasn’t working, and he was growing increasingly nervous. Vic didn’t know what to do, and it fell like he was going to panic any minute now, lose control of himself and surrender his body to the fear. He was terrified by the idea of something like that happening to him.

Finally, he bolted out of the bed and out of the room, still in his shorts and barefoot. Eddie’s door remained slightly ajar, and without hesitation he opened it and went inside. He got into Eddie’s bed as quietly as he could, grabbed a pillow to have something to hold on to and tried not to touch the other man.

Eddie shifted on the bed and felt the sheets with his hand towards Vic, his eyes still closed.

“Is that you Vic?” he blinked with difficulty, trying to come around. “Are you okay?”

Vic knew he mustn’t look it. His brows were deeply furrowed but his eyes were wide open, focused on a point beyond Eddie’s head. He was clenching his teeth firmly, and said nothing.

“Hey, Vic…” Eddies voice was hoarse. He brought a hesitant hand up to touch Vic’s shoulder, approaching him slowly. Vic didn’t react until Eddie’s fingers brushed his skin, then he bolted up and grabbed Eddie suddenly by the collar of his t-shirt. He didn’t push him out, didn’t pull him in, just stayed there, inches away, holding him firmly. He might be scared, but he didn’t want Eddie’s pity.

“It’s okay Vic, it’s fine.” Eddie brought both his arms around him to embrace him now, pull him closer, but Vic fought his hold, squirmimg and trying to shove him away.

“Let go of me Eddie.” They struggled for a moment, panting, Eddie tugging and Vic drawing him away, an awkward dance of limbs, but what Eddie lacked in muscle he had in weight, and Vic was too drunk to hold him back. He soon felt overpowered by the other man, surrounded by his arms and cradled close.

“Fuck Vic. You and your stupid nightmares. What are you afraid of?”

Vic pushed him with all his force and grabbed his collar again with just one hand, the other closed in a fist and pressed against Eddie’s jaw. He was trying to contain the urge to hit him in the face. In the darkness his eyes burned with anger.

“I am not afraid.”

He let go of Eddie at once and turned away, curling against the edge of the bed. Soon Eddie laid on his side too and huddled a bit closer without actually touching him. Vic could feel the space lingering between them, infinite.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _GMF_ by John Grant.
> 
> Originally posted on [my tumblr](https://louisewilder.tumblr.com/post/190176000717/your-writing-is-excellent-from-the-prompts-list).
> 
> hello updating the notes to let everyone know the amazing rysttle on Tumblr drew a beautiful piece of fanart based on this fic that you can find [here](https://rysttle.tumblr.com/post/611520759021600768/found-the-ficlet-shimmies-got-lazy-started) I am eternally blessed. and [here](https://rysttle.tumblr.com/post/613410068308869120/an-alternate-ending-for-that-one-ficlet-you-know) is some more art! thank you rysttle i love you


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